Af-riikka

There is one thing which I have found painstakingly noticeable in different fields in Africa: in politics, in the toilet, on the dancefloor or in daily human contacts. People are not ashamed of almost anything. This is something especially peculiar for an average Finn, who is basically afraid to do anything out of norms, feeling ashamed most of the time. ("Mitähän minustakin ajatellaan?") I still feel somewhat uncomfortable when people stare at me, while dancing in public, for example - and after all this time here, I still don't feel the sudden urge to jump on the stage and perform a solo dance while a group is playing on the background. Here people tend to do that without any difficulties at all. It is not considered odd to be dancing alone in a discotheque, neither. If you have the need to dance, just go ahead! When it comes to toilet behaviour, that is not a taboo neither. You can do it pretty much anywhere and anytime you want. Most do it by the road, in Grand-Popo v...

On the beach of Grand-Popo in December, a big Mami Wata celebration: people throwing themselves into the sea etc. A girl selling bonbons in the front. Me in my funeral costume in Dangbo, near Porto Novo. Getting water for a shower in Baguida, near Lomé at Alfa Kaza's place. Flickr refused to work, but this is at least something...I also added a couple of photos in the previous posts. And a post "African Beauty", which was a draft, so it's lower down there now, don't miss it :)

I have now spent a bit more than one week in Burkina Faso, former Upper Volta. It is supposed to be one of the poorest countries in the world, but strangely enough, at least in the cities, the poverty is visible mostly in the multitude of beggars. Especially little boys flock the streets with their little buckets - this is something I haven't seen in the southern neighboring countries, where beggars were usually old, sick or handicapped people. Otherwise life in Burkina seems good for those who have money (as almost everywhere in the world..!). There are basically no power cuts, whereas in Benin, Togo and Ghana they were more or less daily entertainment. Neither is there a shortage of running water so far, although the country is very dry, with almost no water resources. So those who can afford electricity and water are doing relatively well here. Food is cheap, but petrol is expensive. Which might explain the scarceness of vehicles on the roads, mostly donkeys and bicycles fill th...

Somehow listening to CMX on a train trip from Ouagadougou (the capital of Burkina) to Bobo-Dioulasso (the second city in Burkina) inspires me to write about Africa. To make huge generalizations, too - so consider yourself to be warned! However, my observations are based mostly on Benin & Togo, a bit less on Burkina. I can't deny it: people are extraordinarily beautiful, especially children. I might just do Madonna/Angelina Jolie one day..! Growing up children also seems a lot less complicated here: until a certain age you carry them on your back, then just let then loose. However, teaching good manners and obedience is of uttermost importance: something that most European (or at least Finnish) kids have never even heard of...and although at first sight one might think that children are somehow neglected, that is not the case. Newborn babies are being taken care of according to strict customs: how to wash them, how to give them "natural protection" (someone might call ...

This blog entry will be very fragmented, because I am writing it in a hurry. Just some thoughts. I forgot two very important small things I will miss from Benin: Mo & Mo, meaning Moka (the best sugary drink ever), and motos - the faster you can go, the better! I suppose I have to take some driving lessons in Finland, so that next time I can rent or buy one of my own here - not that I'd like to drive a motorcycle in Cotonou, though. Too chaotic. So I left Grand-Popo last week, definitively. It feels bizarre. While looking for the main road of GP for the last time, I thought: this is my home. Now I'm homeless again! I feel also a bit lost in Burkina Faso: suddenly I'm not a yovo anymore, but a nassara, and water in plastig bags, usually known as "pure water" (pronounced pjooh-wata) in the southern countries is called Bara Jii here . There are a lot of whites around, many going towards or coming from Mali. I'm heading to the more touristy countries now, an...

The things I will definitely miss from Benin: • Many people. Once again, it is people who make the whole thing worth something. • The sea. It is nowhere near like the sea in Finland…here I have no hard time believing that there are gods in the sea, whereas in Helsinki I just mostly think of…seagulls. (Damn Seagulls!) • Dance classes. They really are great, and I regret having such a long pause in my classes! • Walking the main street of Grand-Popo towards Villa Karo at 7.30 am. Stopping for a porridge and passing by many familiar faces, and quite a few school children. • Animals running around (although hygiene-concerned might not appreciate cats, dogs and chicken running around in a restaurant) • Fresh fruits: have I ever tasted sweeter mangoes or pineapples? What will I not miss from Benin: • As Minna put it: in Africa, we wait a lot. It is nice to be able to rely on timetables again (although it is often me who is late…) • Very hot and humid days – it just isn’t comfortable. • Push ...

What a bizarre country Benin is ! This is what happened last Saturday, when I was with Minna in Porto Novo: First warning. We were eating in a restaurant called Java Promo, where the waitresses were teasing and touching us as usual (women have the right to do that, unlike men). We were having a few glasses of wine with our French fries dinner, and feeling jolly and gay. It was already past 9pm, when one of the sweet waitresses approached us and asked whether we’re going to stay long. She continued that she doesn’t want to force us to go home, but that “tonight is not a good night to go out”, and that everyone should go to their homes around 11pm at latest. It was the night of ghosts (revenants), and it was especially dangerous for women – even more for foreigners – to stay outside. She warned that we might get beaten up if we stay outside and the ghosts see us… Second warning. We had another drink at our hotel “La Détente” before heading towards the night club “Feelings”. The staff of ...

Riikka has asked me to write a few words on my brief visit to the Republic of Benin, so here goes nothing…I’m scribbling these notes to a notebook adorned with the visage of the current president, the esteemed Dr. Yayi, while sipping my coffee at a hotel bar on surprisingly cold Monday morning. The Harmattan has started and the temperature is down to a chilling twenty-something degrees centigrade… On my choice of terminology The more pedantic may be annoyed by my layman’s usage of the term anarchy, but bear with me. It is after all a word inflated by its usage, meaning different things to UK punks and Spanish socialists. In this text, I use anarchy loosely to describe complex systems run without apparent centralized control. For that, to me, is the quintessential Beninese experience as a tourist: to witness a (semi-)functioning society with very little apparent organization. From where I come from… Growing up in Finland, one gets used to rules, regulations and restrictions: the don’ts....

Seuraavat fraasit on hyvä osata, jos täällä pidempään oleilee: "Yovo-yovo-bonsoir-ca-va-bien-merci!" = valkoinen-valkoinen-hyvää-iltaa-mitä-kuuluu-kiitos ! Tältä on mahdoton välttyä Beninissä: paikallisten lasten latelema litania, usein kuulee myös pelkän alun, tai vain yovo-huudon… "Bon assise!" = Hyvää istumista! Olin aluksi hiukan hämmentynyt tästä lausahduksesta, koska en ollut kuullut vastaavaa ennen. Istuminen on täällä arvostettua – vieraalle tarjotaan aina ensin istumapaikka, ja seuraavaksi vettä tai vaihtoehtoisesti sodabia (palmuviinaa). Tästä tuli mieleeni jo Ranskaan palanneen stipendiaatin lausahdus "Helvetti - se on paikka, josta vesi on loppu eikä jäljellä ole mitään muuta juomista kuin sodabia…". "Tu as bien reveille?" = Heräsitkö hyvin ? Kysymyksen voi esittää ja kuulla mihin aikaan päivästä tahansa, sillä myös nukkuminen onnistuu mihin aikaan tahansa. Olisi mahtavaa saada paikallisten unenlahjat – Lomésta mieleeni on piirtynyt ...

Ehkä noin kahden ensimmäisen viikon aikana pidin kummallisena, että joku haluaisi elää vapaaehtoisesti Afrikassa (tai tarkemmin ottaen Beninissä). Mieleni on muuttunut alkutunnelmista, ja nyt ihmettelen lähinnä sitä, miksei joku haluaisi elää täällä, ainakin hetken aikaa, jos siihen vain on mahdollisuus ? Itse elän täällä nyt, jo kolmatta kuukautta. Siirtomaarouvan elämää ehkä, lukuunottamatta palvelijoiden puuttumista, jos taloni mittoja katsoo. Muurien takana sijaitseva palatsini on ainakin 80 neliön kokoinen, piha suorastaan valtava, mutta puutarha vielä melko vaatimaton. Liioittelen ehkä hiukkasen palatsinimitystä käyttäessäni, mutta se sopii ainakin hyvin yksiin minulle annettujen lempinimien kanssa : niitä on useita, kuten « la Reine de la Finlande » (Suomen kuningatar), « Mademoiselle Africa » tai « la Grande Dame de la Villa Karo ». Äiti olisi varmasti ylpeä nähdessään minun kastelevan terassin vierustan kukkia (kuvassa !) aamuseitsemältä - jos vain saan herättyä ajoissa, jotta...

This is a comment I hear, if not daily, at least weekly. I really cannot eat a litre of maize porridge, as the locals do. That’s when they complain that I don’t eat enough…but I have gotten my appetite back, also when it comes to chocolate and sweets :) Consequently I have been hearing quite a few comments about my weight lately. The first one who remarked something was Vincent, a waiter in Farafina, the nearest restaurant – he started: “Riikka is just getting more and more beautiful all the time.” Before I had time to say anything, he continued: “You have gained some weight here! It’s a good thing, but you have to keep an eye on what you eat…”. Erh, so this positive beginning turned into something which might be regarded as an insult in Europe. But since then (this was maybe two weeks ago) I have gotten more and more similar observations from different people. They are mostly meant as compliments, I’ve understood. Remarks about other people’s appearance seems to be a way of caring, al...

So far I have managed to participate in the festivities of all the three main religions in Benin: Christianity, Islam and Voodoo (several different spellings for the last one, I’m using the Hollywood version here). As for the title here, religion is closely linked to traffic, just as any other specters of life. The Ramadan ended on Sunday, and on Monday evening we had a dinner at our nightwatch Abdoullai’s house, after which we continued to the local Fulani people’s party, a few kilometers from Grand-Popo. I was quite surprised to see a Fulani version of bling-bling rappers’ clothing…I wish I had taken some photos of those guys, they were absolutely amazing. The contrast was even bigger as all the women were dressed very conservatively and didn’t dance too much, neither. I felt myself very naked with an African top which exposed my shoulders, not to mention my uncovered head...! But well, we had some pastis (I don’t think I’ve ever drank as much pastis as I’ve done here), took a lot of...

My quota for tomato-onion-chili sauce with fish has been full during the last week. It somehow feels like a good idea to have a bit of a break from fish after that toxic-waste-incident in Ivory Coast ( http://www.irinnews.org/report.asp?ReportID=55612&SelectRegion=West_Africa&SelectCountry=COTE_D_IVOIRE ). It shouldn't do any harm to the vast Atlantic, but still: someone had seen dead fish on the beach here, too, and another person spoke about a dead whale… Luckily, my omelette quota has still space! Now that I have begun sports again (running at the beach this morning and private dance lessons – no smart grins there, I finally found someone who knows contemporary African dance well) I must begin eating properly. Omelettes, peanuts and fruits do not quite fill all the sections of the food pyramid. I just had the weirdest lunch: earlier during the day fried bananas, later on an omelette with bread, an orange, some olives and chocolate. Of course I had also Moka, my absolutel...

I’ve been reading quite a few travel books lately – both actual guides and more literary works about people’s experiences. One that I haven’t finished yet is called “Chicken Soup for the Travelers’ Soul”, a collection of dozens little stories by different writers. It might be that I’m just having an emotional time right now, but those stories have awaken me a bit. I have remembered what travelling is all about. Travelling at its best means meeting people in the strangest places, having connection with someone even without a common language, deviations and detours. And at its worst it’s even more memorable – another unfinished book is called “Worst Journeys: The Picador Book of Travel” (1991). The author of Viceroy of Ouidah (which I didn’t manage to read before leaving, but I saw the movie by Werner Herzog, Cobra Verde – can’t really recommend to watch that one), Bruce Chatwin describes his experiences in Cotonou during a coup in 1972. He was captured by the police, suspected of being ...

Olen jo muutaman viikon aikana ehtinyt havainnoida ulkomaalaisten läsnäoloa Beninissä mitä erilaisemmissa paikoissa. Voisin aloittaa vaikkapa libanonilaisista, sillä ilmeisesti kaikki suurimmat varsinaiset ‘supermarketit’, ainakin Cotonoussa, ovat libanonilaisten omistuksessa. Niinpä Villa Karon aamiaisella nautitaan mm. libanonilaista kahvia - paitsi minä juon Nescaféa…kuin olisi Ranskassa taas! Tuontituotteet tulevat muutenkin vähän mistä sattuu, sillä sunnuntaina tein ruokaa papin perheelle (pienellä avustuksella tosin, ei vielä ihan sujunut tuo maissi-maniokkipuuron keittäminen yksin) argentiinalaisella öljyllä, tänään söin leivän puutteessa turkkilaisia keksejä ja muutama päivä sitten yksi stipendiaatti osti katalonialaista suklaata. Tuonnin kirjo on ymmärrettävää sinänsä, koska Beninin ja naapurimaiden kovin suppeaan teollisuuteen tuntuu kuuluvan lähinnä virvoitusjuomia, olutta ja palmusta saatavia tuotteita. Kaikki muu (kaakao, puuvilla jne.) viedään toisaalle jalostettavaksi. L...

Evening at the beach with drums, dancing and a lot of sodabi (palmuviina, palm booze). I haven't started my djembe lessons yet, I'll try that next week or so... A local cemetary. Quite nice with all those palm trees. And all the stones were different, not blackish-grey as in Finland. The annual competition on pulling the rope (köydenveto, what is in English..?), series for both men and women. I was happy I didn't have to compete against those mamas, they looked stronger than these men here! A big fish in Ouidah, the main port of slave trade in the 18th - 19th century, a few million slaves were transported from there. A local football match. Check the excellent goal posts - and I just managed to click a photo during a goal! Some players didn't have any shoes, by the way. Actually I saw this match on the Togolose side, but no visa needed, we just crossed a river...

Maistan. Tuoreesta kalasta ja hedelmistä ei ainakaan tule olemaan pulaa rannikolla asuessa. Ensimmäisen viikon aikana vatsa kuitenkin oireilee tottumattomuuttaan oudosta ruokaympäristöstä. Enpä olisi arvannut, että selviytymispaketin (kiitos Mikko & Anne! tuli todella tarpeeseen...) mustikka-vadelmakeitto voisi maistua niin uskomattoman hyvältä ! Tee ja Possotomé –vesi helpottavat oloa, mutta mitään kovin raskasta ruokaa ei erityisemmin tee mieli syödä. Ruoan syömisen lisäksi sen hankkiminen tuntuu alussa hankalalta, sillä olen aina nälkäinen väärään aikaan ja väärässä paikassa. Pikaruoan käsitettä ei ole samalla tavalla olemassa kuin mihin olen tottunut, vaikka jotakin saattaakin löytää kadunkulmien kojuista. Ravintolassa taas ruoan tilaamisen ja sen saapumisen välillä kulunut aika voi olla mitä tahansa, puolesta tunnista kolmeen tuntiin. Hyvin usein kun tilaus on jätetty, ravintolanpitäjä hurauttaa mopollaan kauppamatkalle hankkimaan aineksia ateriaan. Näin varsinkin ravintoloiss...

I don't mean to copy Katriina's blog (sorry, don't have the adress here, maybe you can put in your next comment :)), but it somehow feels best to describe my first days here with feelings, rather than trying to analyze it rationally. So, here we go, first two of the senses, more will come next week! Sight. A huge red star on La place de l’Etoile rouge is a reminiscent of the Marxist past of Benin. It is also one of the first things I manage to see from the window of the airplane – although I don’t have a window on my seat row, I try to peek as much as I can the scenery of the passenger in front of me. The metropole of Cotonou stretches below us, and not very invitingly, I must admit. Luckily idyllic Grand-Popo awaits… There are just way too many things to see for a first-timer, and my eyes can’t get a hold of anything else except clichés of Africa: people carrying things on top of their heads, selling everything from clocks to irons while cars have to stop in traffic ligh...

This is something that interests you all, I know that for sure. So please forgive my mistakes in English, I’m writing this in a bit of a hurry right now… Actually, I noticed a fact in Paris I had already forgotten: Frenchmen are so very feminine compared to Finnish men. Well, in Benin the division of sexes is clear: men are men and women are women, as Mika Terho praises - on several occasions - in his book (see the previous post in Finnish). It does tell something that when asking the names of workers’ children in Villa Karo, only the names of women’s children were known, but nobody remembered the names of male workers’ children. One obvious reason is that women bring their children at workplace very often, whereas men don’t. Well, I have been meeting a lot, a lot of new people during these 10 days or so. First impressions are even stronger than in Finland, you can somehow feel the sincerity immediately and predict whom you will end up liking and whom you'll try to run away from a...

Aloitan lainauksella Mika Terhon Afrikan päiväkirjasta (2004), josta en tosin voi sanoa pitäneeni paljoa. Mutta seuraava ote osuu vain niin hyvin tämänhetkisiin tunnelmiin : "Afrikkalaisen ajan hitaassa kulumisessa yksi viikko vastaa laskujeni mukaan kuukautta Suomessa. Eli kohta kolmen viikon asemesta olenkin ollut täällä kolme kuukautta. Täällä stressi kuolee ja se kiskotaan ihmisestä irti. Saa olla jo kunnolla kipeä mikäli täällä saa burnoutin ja tipahtaa pois uraputkesta, jonka päätepiste on Co to nou – Kuoleman joen suu." Terho kirjoittaa siis stipendiaattiajastaan Villa Karossa, henrymillermäisen "aistilliseen" (miksi miesten kirjoittama aistillisuus on minusta aina jotain aivan muuta kuin mitä itse käsitän sillä ?) tapaan. Lukekaa itse ja päättäkää, vihaatteko sitä vaiko ette. Itseäni ärsytti lievän egosentrisyyden (taiteilijat !) lisäksi kirjoitusvirheet nimissä (ainoakaan tuntemani ihmisen nimi ei ollut kirjoitettu oikein) tai nimien jättäminen kokonaan po...